


Something to Speak Of

by K_Hanna_Korossy



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Hanna_Korossy/pseuds/K_Hanna_Korossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag to "Cor-Ai." Perhaps there is something to this Tau'ri tradition of talking about what weighs down your heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Speak Of

 

First published in  _Seventh Chevron 6_ (2002)

 

It was…disconcerting to meditate while sitting in a chair, rather than with legs folded, on the floor. Kel’noreem should have been possible in any relaxed position, but Teal’c had never tested that assertion before. An injured leg, however, still healing, had given him little choice. Doctor Frasier had only allowed him out of the infirmary with the promise he would “take it easy” and invoke Kel’noreem to help heal the damage to his leg.

The injury to his soul, however, would take more than a healing meditation.

Kel’noreem calmed the spirit, too, but Teal’c’s spirit was refusing to calm that afternoon. The memories of those he had killed and hurt and enslaved in his years as Apophis’s First Prime had never really left him. They sometimes played through his dreams, or reflected in the eyes of one who reminded him of a former victim, or whispered into the silence of his meditation. A Jaffa should not have a conscience, he’d been told more than once before, but he did. It had led him to forsake his “god” and join the Tauri. But it would also not let him forget the horrors he had done in service to that false god. Hanno had been right—he was no longer the Teal’c who had killed the young man’s father. But he still had that man’s memories, that man’s shame. Nothing Hanno could have done to him would have punished Teal’c more than his memories already did. The insignificant leg injury was a small penalty.

So many innocents. They would never wash clean of his memories.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, and Teal’c let the edge of meditation slide away from him with a silent sigh. Apparently it was not meant to be that evening. He honestly didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved at the distraction, and frowned at himself for the disturbing lack of insight. It seemed there was much he would have to work through before he found his peace.

“Come.”

The door opened partway to reveal Daniel Jackson peering around it. A strange habit, such hesitation, apparently one meant to provide less of an intrusion than simply coming in the door, and yet the person clearly meant entry. Still, Teal’c accepted it as the polite gesture it was and inclined his head in welcome.

“Teal’c. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later—”

“It is not an interruption,” he said honestly. After all, it was not as if he’d been making progress, right? “Please enter.”

His teammate did, giving the room a glance as he came inside. Everyone who came into Teal’c’s room did the same thing, as if they expected it to have changed since the last time they’d seen it, or were surprised by its appearance somehow. He did not have it decorated as he’d seen other SGC members had done, but that was a frivolity Teal’c saw no purpose in. Although, there was the picture Cassandra had drawn him in one of the drawers of the dresser. Perhaps displaying that would not be inappropriate….

But to the matter at hand. He motioned Daniel Jackson to the only other place to sit down in the room, the edge of his bed, and waited.

Daniel Jackson sat, his hands curling around the edge of the bed and his eyes moving around the room again before they rested back on Teal’c. “I, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing. Dr. Frasier said the leg was better.”

“It is,” Teal’c nodded once.

“That’s…that’s good.”

A long silence, with Daniel Jackson studying the floor. Teal’c looked at it as well but could see nothing of interest. Perhaps that was not all the archaeologist had come to see him about?

“Teal’c…” Daniel Jackson finally spoke up again. “How are you doing with this whole…Cor-Ai thing?”

Teal’c tilted his head. “I do not understand.”

Daniel Jackson was frowning, examining him now. The man could not seem to merely look at anything without giving it intense concentration. “I know it brought up a lot of…memories again, a lot of feelings—that must be difficult. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Teal’c opened his mouth to answer he was fine, when there was another knock at the door. Even as Daniel Jackson looked up at it, startled, Teal’c calmly said, “Come.”

O’Neill appeared around the edge of the door this time. It was not his way to hesitate, and Teal’c merely looked at him with expectation. It was enough. Even as O’Neill’s gaze discovered Daniel Jackson sitting on the bed, one eyebrow rising at the sight, he came into the room and immediately buried his hands in his pockets. Ah. Another ill-at-ease visitor. Teal’c was growing more confused all the time.

“Teal’c. Daniel.” A nod of the head for each of them. “If you two are talking….” He nodded next at the door, apparently an offer to depart.

“That will not be necessary, O’Neill.”

“No, stay, Jack. I was just…” Daniel Jackson’s hand raised toward Teal’c, then fell again to the bed. “…seeing how Teal’c was doing.”

“Popular guy,” Jack smiled, but made no motion to either sit or leave, hovering by the door. “So…how **are** you doing?”

Teal’c considered that. “I am recovering.”

“Good. Doc Frasier say how much longer it would be before you’re cleared for missions?”

Any good commander would have had that information already, and Teal’c knew O’Neill to be an excellent leader, so this seemed to be what humans called “small talk.” It was not a skill he excelled in, but it was important in order to maintain ties, and so he tried. “My symbiote has already healed the worst of it. I shall be ready when necessary.”

“You’ll be ready when Frasier says you’re ready,” O’Neill amended sternly, and Teal’c only nodded at that.

And the room again fell into silence.

Teal’c looked at his guests. Daniel Jackson was back to studying the floor, while O’Neill seemed to find the ceiling just as fascinating. Teal’c decided he would have to examine the room himself once he was alone; apparently there was far more to see than he’d realized.

Daniel Jackson finally spoke up, seeming to address them both. “Actually, I came to see how Teal’c was managing after the Cor-Ai. I know it stirred up a lot of bad memories.”

“For both of you,” O’Neill said quietly.

The archaeologist shook his head slightly. “Telling them what happened with Sha’re was important for the trial, I know that. I’ve dealt with it. And I meant what I said, Teal’c—I know you’re not the man who picked Sha’re. I forgive you and I know she would, too.”

Teal’c bowed his head deeply. He did not fully believe it still, but that Daniel Jackson would say it meant a great deal to him.

O’Neill cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I know it was important for the trial, but that doesn’t mean it was fun, for any of us. And Teal’c, the next time you get the urge to get all penitent, warn me first, huh? I don’t like one of my people deciding in the middle of a mission that it’s time for him to pay for all the mistakes he made in the past.”

Daniel Jackson straightened on the bed. “This wasn’t about penitence—I don’t think Teal’c was looking for absolution, Jack. It was a chance to make right at least one injury.”

“How, by killing himself? Oh, excuse me, **letting** himself be killed. Big difference. How’s that gonna make anything right?”

“Justice isn’t about making things go back to the way they were. You can’t do that most of the time. It’s about the injured party getting some satisfaction, some sense of-of, well, justice.”

O’Neill took a deep breath. “That’s not how the military works, Daniel, get that through your head. You receive an order, you follow it. You take time to ask questions and things go bad.”

“Oh, yeah, like you never ask questions and always do what you’re told?” He’d half risen from the bed, and O’Neill moved forward to face him.

“I’m not usually ordered to kill innocents.” Teal’c noticed the slight hesitation at the word “usually” and wondered if the Cor-Ai had raised some bad memories for O’Neill, also. “The U.S. military isn’t going to execute me if I don’t follow an order I think is morally wrong. I don’t think Apophis would have had any problem shooting Teal’c right then and there as an _example_.”

Teal’c turned to Daniel Jackson, awaiting the response, watching as the younger man faltered, voice lowering. “I’m not saying he had a choice, Jack. Teal’c, I know you didn’t. I’m just saying…sometimes we end up paying even for what we didn’t intend to do. Justice is often about compensating the victim, not the innocent. It’s not always fair, actually, and…” He ran a hand through his hair. “…I don’t think you deserved the Cor-Ai. But I can understand why they held it and why you wanted to let them do it.”

“Thank you, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said solemnly. It felt strangely good to be supported so.

“Well, I don’t,” O’Neill said crossly. Then made a face, giving first Daniel, then Teal’c a long look. More reluctantly, he added. “But I can respect it. If this ever happens again, though, I’m still gonna do my damnedest to get you out alive, you got that?” He had leveled a finger threateningly at Teal’c.

He resisted a smile, but knew O’Neill would see it in his eyes anyway. “Indeed,” was all he said.

“Good.”

More silence, more examination of the contents and walls of the room.

Teal’c understood now it was concern for him that had brought his two teammates there to see him, although at least a portion of their argument had been intended for the other, not for him. But what more was there to talk about?

“Have we not then discussed the Cor-Ai?” he finally asked politely.

Two pairs of eyes blinked at him, taken off-guard. Perhaps he should not have been so blunt?

O’Neill, back by the door again, stirred. “So…you’re okay with it? Carter’s always saying you should talk about stuff, get it all out or…something.”           

Daniel Jackson gave an unexpected sound of disbelief from the bed, and Teal’c and O’Neill’s heads both swung to stare at him. He glanced up, instantly looking embarrassed at having been heard. “Sorry, it’s just...isn’t that a little bit of pots and kettles, Jack? Talking about how he feels?”

What did cookware have to do with the situation? Teal’c wondered about it, feeling more lost than ever.

O’Neill’s eyes had narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you are the most closed-up individual I’ve ever met. On Argos, you almost died of old age. Had to be some real baggage there—did you ever talk about it? You probably just buried it and went to a hockey game. And then when that alien took Charlie’s form—don’t tell me that didn’t blindside you. Did you talk to anyone about it after? God knows, I tried to get you to. It was like talking to a brick wall. And Hathor….” He seemed to run out of energy at that point, shrinking back onto the bed.

O’Neill quickly took over. Teal’c was ignored as the older man loomed over the seated archaeologist. “Yeah, let’s talk about Hathor. She might’ve done a little surgery on me, most of which I can’t even remember, but the woman practically **raped** you, Daniel. Or how about Nem and his little mind-scrambling machine. Torture’s torture no matter what it’s for. Or how about blowing up Thor’s Hammer, the only thing we’ve found that could have cured Sha’re. You really want to compare baggage?”

Daniel Jackson had gone an alarming shade of white, and Teal’c stirred uneasily. What had begun as a seemingly pointless but somewhat amusing exchange had become a battle between two friends, neither of whom did he wish to see hurt.

But…O’Neill was not blind. Nor truly angry, Teal’c guessed, seeing how quickly the colonel’s expression changed as he also took in Daniel Jackson’s appearance. The fire died from his eyes, the coldness of his face softening into sympathy and regret. He sank onto the bed next to Daniel Jackson, one hand on the archaeologist’s nearest shoulder.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah. You did.” Daniel Jackson’s voice was hushed, eyes now on his lap. “But you’re right. I don’t talk about it. I try not to even think about it, Jack, because if I do…I might not be able to make myself get up the next morning.”

O’Neill winced, his grip on Daniel Jackson’s shoulder tightening.

“Maybe we are supposed to talk about it. I don’t know. All I know is, I just…can’t right now. Maybe…maybe it’s enough right now to know there’s somebody who’ll listen and care if I do want to talk.” He glanced sideways at the man next to him.

O’Neill shook him a little, a gesture Teal’c recognized for its fondness. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Maybe it is.”

Daniel Jackson was still peering at him through his longer hair with some reluctance. “So…no catharsis today?”

“Not today.” O’Neill’s hand came up to cuff him on the back of his head. “Maybe I’ll go cry on your shoulder tomorrow.”

Daniel Jackson grinned slightly. “Deal.” And Teal’c knew both men well enough to understand the look they exchanged. It spoke of a unity he had never seen between two Jaffa, even those who had served many years at each other’s side.

And then, as if remembering he was still there, they turned that same look toward him. Mixed with a little embarrassment.

“Uh, Teal’c.” O’Neill’s hands returned to his lap, suddenly restless. “So that’s, uh, why it’s important to talk. You know, clear the air, get things off your chest.”

Teal’c glanced down at his breast.

“No…not that way. It’s an expression. You know, get things off your mind.” He winced as Teal’c barely curbed the desire to glance up. O’Neill was gesturing with both hands now, much as Daniel Jackson usually did. The two men had unquestionably influenced each other over time. “Uh, unburden yourself. Like…maybe you’d like to, I don’t know…” He glanced at Daniel Jackson, a clear request for help.

“Uh, sort through things,” the younger man jumped in. “Talk about how you felt about the Cor-Ai, how you feel about…” His hand made a rolling motion but it did not seem to help the words come out.

“…about all the things you had to do for Apophis,” Jack finished hopefully. Daniel Jackson nodded as vehemently as if he’d been the one to speak.

“I see,” Teal’c finally said gravely. It wasn’t completely true, but he had no desire for them to attempt another explanation.

Another silence, and he realized he was expected to say more, perhaps to “unburden his chest.” But while he appreciated the offer, he had rarely seen the two men before him so uncomfortable. They had made the offer out of friendship, an intriguing suggestion to discuss how he felt, which he would not have considered by himself and that he deeply appreciated. But they were also clearly unsure what they would do if he took them up on it. No doubt their best, and Teal’c knew from experience there was a depth of feeling in both men they would willingly tap for a friend if needed.

But there was no such need right now. Already his heart felt much lighter than when his guests had first arrived. Perhaps Daniel Jackson had been right in that the offer was worth almost as much as the actual occurrence.

When he did not speak, his two teammates glanced at each other, then O’Neill jumped to his feet. “Well, I guess we should leave you to…do your healing…thing.”

“Right.” Daniel Jackson also stood. “Let us know if you need anything.”

Teal’c bowed his head once.

He was alone again in seconds. Teal’c allowed himself a small smile, reflecting on just how interesting, and how loyal, the Tauri could be. He considered himself honored to be considered their friend, particularly the friend of the two men who had just come to offer him what they would not even willingly do for themselves. If Teal’c had ever committed an act of atonement for his past sins, joining the Tauri had been it. The great deal he had gained from it personally was just, as O’Neill had once said, icing on the pastry.

Another knock sounded at the door, and Teal’c turned back to it, no longer surprised. “Come.”

Captain Carter’s head appeared around the edge of the half-open door. “Teal’c? I hope I’m not disturbing you.” At his motion to come in, she did, smiling. “Was that Daniel and Colonel O’Neill I just saw leaving?” she pointed curiously back over her shoulder, to the door.

“It was.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Well, I just wanted to ask you if there was anything that, you know, you wanted to talk about. I can imagine how confusing this has to be right now.”

“That is very true,” Teal’c said with a straight face.

She immediately seated herself on the bed, her legs tucked beneath her, no hesitancy or discomfort in her bearing. “Like what?” she prompted kindly.

Had she come an hour before, he might have found a brief answer that would satisfy her. Instead, the offer made, no more earnest than the previous two had been but somehow more appealing, intrigued him. Such revelations of weak spots or doubts would have been severely punished in Apophis’s ranks, but here, he trusted those to whom he revealed his secrets and such trust and admission seemed to be a source of strength, not weakness. Perhaps he would see how this “unburdening” worked. It would not be the first time he learned a valuable lesson from the Tauri.

And so, considering briefly how to start, Teal’c made himself comfortable and began to talk.

The End


End file.
